


Inside the House on Neibolt Street

by Chat_Noir_SPN



Category: IT - Stephen King, Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Bad Parents Maggie Tozier & Wentworth Tozier, Blood and Gore, F/M, Graphic Description of Corpses, M/M, Not Really Character Death, Past Child Abuse, Richie Tozier Needs a Hug, The Upside Down and The Deadlights are one and the same, doll care, same time period
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-25
Updated: 2020-08-14
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:47:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22901191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chat_Noir_SPN/pseuds/Chat_Noir_SPN
Summary: They say "No one that dies in Derry ever really dies."Maybe that's true. Maybe not at first.Eventually, everything fades one way or another.Will Byers is a sweet kid who understands this better than anyone else.The Byers family decided, of all places, to move to Derry, Maine to get away from the danger and sadness of Hawkins, Indiana. Without their past causing rumors to pop up, Will was no longer the "zombie kid" with his "perverted" older brother. He was just a new kid in a weird little town. The Byers family had no idea how dark this town truly was.
Relationships: Eleven | Jane Hopper/Mike Wheeler, Jonathan Byers/Nancy Wheeler, Will Byers/Richie Tozier
Comments: 15
Kudos: 45





	1. I fucking told you

**Author's Note:**

  * For [disterra (mutantrentboy)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mutantrentboy/gifts).



“There are truths I never dare speak. Inside the house on Widow’s peak. I feel the things that linger here. Listening and closing near. And so I fear were I to speak. So would respond to me, the deep. When madness takes its promised due. Then still I’ll search this place for you. How barely you elude me still. I’ll find you soon, I will, I WILL. And then I’ll raise my lips and say. Please my love, please let me stay. So we can be together here. That is the truth I speak. Forevermore, together more. Inside the house on Widow’s peak. Nevermore. Forevermore.” ~ Josh Ramsay

Inside the house on Neibolt Street

“I told you, Bill. I fucking told you..” Richie’s voice trembled as he spoke to his friend, trapped in the arms of the murderous clown. “I don’t wanna die. It’s your fault…” he said as he got up from the ground. He then began to list things off, counting on his fingers as he moved towards the pile of dead children’s shit. “You made me walk through shitty water, you brought me to a fucking crackhead house, and now... “ He pulled out a baseball bat from the heap. “I’m gonna have to kill this fucking clown.” Pennywise throws Bill to the ground as he gets up to lung at Richie. “Welcome to the losers club, asshole!” He cries out in war and swung the bat as hard as he can, knocking the clown right on the side of his head. It turned to Mike who does his best to impale the thing in the mouth with a pole, which caused burned hands to come out to grab at it and him as human screams filled the air. Stan came next, grabbing another pole to break the hold that the monster had on Mike so the farm boy could knock it in the back. It’s face contorted into a face of a jaded woman. The two no longer hesitated with their swings but the clown was ready, knocking Mike to the ground, going after him with giant scythe hands like a praying mantis, trying to run him through only for Ben to get to Pennywise first, impaling him through the back. It squirmed frantically to get some sort of upper hand on the child. The monster contorted once again into the face of a mummy whose bandages wrapped around Ben’s head in an effort to rip the boy’s face off. Bill acted quickly as soon as he saw a chain on the ground, he grabbed it and began whipping the monster as hard as he could, followed by Richie and his bat to keep the clown on his knees. The children formed a kill circle around the creature and began wailing on it with all their might when it tried once again to get the upper hand, changing it’s face again into the leper this time, puking bile all over Eddie’s face which quickly backfired by filling Eddie with rage. “I swear I’m gonna kill you!” The small boy screamed in anger and he kicked the thing right in its face so hard it flew backwards. Finally, the face of Beverly’s father looked her dead in the eye. The thing thought she’d still be scared as he taunted her one last time. “Hey, Bevvy… are you still my little-” It was cut off by her final war cry as she stabbed it through the mouth and into its stomach using a rigid rod. Its facade fell away, leaving the face of the clown, looking almost shocked. The kids backed up and moved away as it spewed the rod from its mouth. Eddie screeched out an “Oh shit!” as he shook his head in disgust. The clown backed away quickly towards the pit as the children got closer. It let out fearful moans as it convulsed and gasped. It laughed weakly at them and trembled before frowning as Bill spoke. “That’s why you didn’t kill Beverly… ‘cause sh-sh-she wasn’t afraid and we’re not either… Not anymore.. Now you’re the one who’s afraid.. Because you’re gonna starve...” Pennywise looked more fearful by the second before rolling backwards over the lip of the pit. The clown began to mumble as Stan handed Bill his pipe. “He thrusts his fists against the post and still insists he sees the ghost… He thrusts his fists against the p-p-p-p-post…” Richie began to smile as he stood a bit too close to the pit, against his better judgement. He was a horror movie buff. He knew that was never okay. When you smile too soon… The clown’s face began to fall apart, making Richie smile bigger but then the thing simply says “Fear..?” and then snatched it’s arm out, grabbing Richie by the ankle and dragging him into the pit with it. The losers all screamed and tried to grab Richie but it was too late. It was like it happened in slow motion. Richie’s eyes pleaded for help behind those huge glasses as a light began to glow beneath him as he seemed to fall forever before a sickening thud sounded throughout the sewer… Missing posters quickly went up around town.. Just like the ones in the house on Neibolt Street.. Mrs. Tozier stands and watches just like Mrs. Ripsome had. He wasn’t coming home… Only his closest friends knew what had happened to him. At least that’s what they all thought.

I fucking told you...

Months have gone by and things calmed down. There weren’t any more missing cases other than a few runaways here and there but can you blame them? It’s Derry Maine and after losing so many people over the past year, the fear scarred the very earth the town rested on. Families moving in have no idea that human blood tainted the very water that the children play in. Why anyone would move here by choice is a mystery. The Byers family always seemed pulled towards danger and weirdness. That’s probably how they ended up right here. To them it seemed like a sleepy little town which it was now that Henry Bowers got locked away for life and It seemed to be defeated. They were excited for a new start no matter how much they miss Hawkins.  
Will liked the idea of going somewhere where no one knew his past. He was just the new kid now, no longer Zombie Boy. He had a chance to reinvent himself here. His brother was doing well already. He was a good photographer and the local newspaper noticed, getting offered an apprenticeship within the first month of living in Derry. Jonathan and Nancy talked on the phone whenever they could and so did El with Mike. Will talked to his friends whenever he could but the other two were on the phone often so he simply decided to just write letters. It felt more personal anyway.  
As soon as he noticed that there was an arcade, he started saving his chore money, hoping he would save up some money to get a couple hours of gaming in and maybe make some friends. That was what he planned but he and his brother went to the local thrift store to pick up a job application and look for any interesting odds and ends. Jonathan went to talk to one of the workers as Will walked around. Nothing really piqued his interest until he passed the doll corner, full of ugly porcelain clown dolls. He was going toward the books when he suddenly stopped. He didn’t know why until he turned to look. Among all the dolls, one stood out. It was made of wood, it’s mouth looked to be stitched shut, had greasy black hair, was apparently water damaged, and seemed to have had some termite issues but he just couldn’t walk away. He needed it.  
When Jonathan returned, he almost actually screamed at what his little brother was holding in his arms. It was horrifying and Will had already bought it. He watched as his brother grinned from ear to ear the entire ride home. He had to ask. “So… What’s with this.. Doll?” Will looked at it for a long moment before shrugging. “I don’t know… as soon as I picked him up, I couldn’t put him down… I want to try to restore him… I’ve never seen one like him before… there’s something so pretty about him and I just..” he gently brushed the doll’s hair to the side, giving it a sad look. “I thought.. He looked so lonely…” Jonathan sighed heavily but smiled warmly. He was so thankful that his brother continued to be kindhearted despite everything. “Alright. Well, what’s his name? We can’t keep calling it “the doll” you know?” Will smiled brightly. “I don’t know yet but I’m sure we’ll find one soon...”  
After a short drive, they made it back home. Will hopped out of the car and rushed into the house as soon as Jonathan stopped the vehicle. He went to the kitchen and pulled off the doll’s dirty clothes and grabbed the bottle of dish soap. He then went to the room to grab a load of his dirty laundry and tossed it into the washing machine. His mother had been so excited that a washer and dryer came with the house. She was worried she would have to wash clothes by hand until she could save up enough for a washer and pin the clothes on wires for months until she could save up for a dryer. He tossed his and the doll’s clothes into the washer. He grabbed one of the toothbrushes from under the sink. He was ready to get to work.  
He first began by taking off his little glasses and grabbed the dish soap, pouring some onto the doll’s face and took the toothbrush and gently began to scrub the dirt off. He took some water and gently wet the brush. The doll was absolutely filthy. The water ran a reddish brown when he rinsed the doll’s hair. It was awful. He tenderly continued cleaning the face making sure to get on and underneath the stitching on his pretty little mouth. For a moment, the doll kind of reminded him of Mike but the thought passed as soon as it appeared. He had to focus and do this right. Once the face was totally clean, he got in the ears and down the neck. Soon he moved down the tiny thing’s chest and arms. It had beautifully pale skin with the faintest of freckles dotting the skin, little moles here and there. Will couldn’t believe how detailed it was. How had no one purchased the doll before him, he would never know.  
He soon finished cleaning the body and went to go grab the fabric softener. He remembered his mother talking about how she fixed the hair on her porcelain dolls growing up. He coated the hair in the softener and set the doll gently in the sink. He waited about twenty minutes but decided that he couldn’t leave the doll alone. He soon heard the sound of the washer stopping so he went and moved them from the washer to the dryer and came back to rinse the doll’s hair. The facial paint wasn’t as bad as he thought. It just needed black for the outside of the eyes and some skin toning on the cheeks and a patch under its eye. Seems like he had a little work done, thankfully that was one less thing he had to do. He then took the dishrag and wrapped it around the little guy before taking him to his room. His brother had gotten him some Acrylic paints on the way to Derry so he could broaden his art style. He pulled out some light flesh tones and black and grabbed his brand new brushes and placed the doll on his desk.  
He took the next hour or two tenderly fixing the paint job and went to grab the glasses and clothes from the kitchen and laundry respectively while the doll dries. “How could someone just let you go..? Sure, you were a little banged up but with a little tender loving care and you’re all pretty again… Why did they stitch up your mouth like this..? I’m sure you didn’t deserve it…” He gently combed the doll’s hair. “I feel like you understand what it’s like to have your voice go unheard… to be avoided by others... “ He chuckled and looked down at it with a tender smile. “I’m Will. I don’t quite know what to name you just yet… I’m sure I’ll find a good name… eventually…” He let the doll dry completely for a couple of hours more before dressing him. He looked so much softer now. He took the rag from earlier to clean the doll’s glasses before placing them on him. “Perfect… you look a lot more lively now!”  
Just then, he heard the door open, knowing that his mother and El had just gotten home. He picked up the doll carefully and brought it out to show them. When he went up to his mom with the doll in his hands, she jumped frantically. “What the hell is that?! Is that a doll?! Why do you have that?!” Will pouted a bit at his mother. “I fixed him and cleaned him up… I couldn’t just leave him there… I don’t know why. He was behind a bunch of creepy clown dolls… I just knew he was there and he felt so lonely…” Will hoped his mother would understand. El gently touched it. “Richie…” Will looked at her with confusion. “What?” She nodded at the doll. “Richie was lonely. The doll’s name is Richie…”


	2. “I don’t wanna die.”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For each chapter, I think I might trade back and forth between POVs. This is what's happening with Richie. Sorry if it's a little boring. I wanted to get his set up out of the way so it's gotta be this way. *GORE WARNING*  
> If it doesn't seem completely consistent, this hasn't been touched since before quarantine. Hope you like it.
> 
> “There are truths I never dare speak. Inside the house on Widow’s peak. I feel the things that linger here. Listening and closing near. And so I fear were I to speak. So would respond to me, the deep. When madness takes its promised due. Then still I’ll search this place for you. How barely you elude me still. I’ll find you soon, I will, I WILL. And then I’ll raise my lips and say. Please my love, please let me stay. So we can be together here. That is the truth I speak. Forevermore, together more. Inside the house on Widow’s peak. Nevermore. Forevermore.” ~ Josh Ramsay
> 
> If you guys can't already tell, this work was inspired by Marianas Trench's new album, Phantoms. Its meant to be a glimpse into madness, inspired by Edgar Allan Poe and Stephen King so I think it's extremely appropriate.
> 
> Thank you.
> 
> Enjoy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is dedicated to disterra and finandwaffleflaccid on Instagram and hellatired on Discord. Love you guys and thanks for all the encouragement to write this.

He was dead. That fucking clown got him. Those deadlights were so warm and inviting at first, seemed so much better than the fate he was going to have. However, now, he wondered if he should have just taken the fall, should have hit the ground and let himself fade into nothingness. Instead, he was running. Trapped in this sick mirror dimension, running from, what Richie assumed was, the clown’s true form, or something equally as bad. It was cold, void of any human life here. He passed many corpses of children and adults as he ran. He knew that he had to get out of town as quickly and as silently as he could. That clown wasn’t the only thing here. He hadn’t actually seen anything else, he just felt it and heard it. There had to be more of these things with this much carnage lying around. Perhaps, whatever was here ate all the life from this dimension so they sent Pennywise over to lure others in. Maybe there was a portal that only opened up every twenty seven years. That’s just swell. Richie just had to survive until then and maybe, just maybe, he could get back out again.

He couldn’t tell if it was snow or ash falling from the sky but he wasn’t about to stick out his tongue and find out. The cold often made him think about his parents. His parents were not the touchy-feely type, never cradled him when he cried, never patted on the head when having done something right, never cuddled, rarely hugged, barely told him “I love you.” they just weren’t the sort. Hell, his parents avoided him at every chance they got. They were cold, distant. He supposed that’s why he sought the attention of his friends, why he acted out, why he cursed so much and made lewd jokes to show his affection, he couldn’t do any of that at home. He cursed once and his mother hit him so hard, he fell and didn’t get up for a few hours. It may have been because he dropped one of her beers, which he did, but all the same, he hasn’t cursed or dropped a beer in that house since. One of the many nights that both of his parents were drinking, his father said he had to tell Richie something. Now, his father didn’t tell him a lot of things but the one thing he did tell him was if he ever found himself lost, alone, and vulnerable, to shag ass and find a place to hide. Find shelter and stay silent until help was in reach. If someone ever did find him, never tell them your name, your age, where you’re from, or where you're going. Just tell ‘em you’re lost and need help. It was apparently good advice after all.

He decided to take up residence in a local convenience store. It seemed that a few others had the same idea but died in the doorway. He knew it wasn’t the best idea but a severed hand of the corpse closest to the door had made it inside so it was definitely unlocked. It still made him sick to his stomach but after everything he’s been through, it didn’t faze him so much. This wasn’t like "The Aftermath" or "The Alien Dead" or "Dawn of the Mummy". There are no astronauts, no alligators, no supermodels. This was more like "Day of the Dead", which happened to be the very last post-apocalypse movie he had seen, bloody and gruesome, without mercy. This felt just like that. Whatever was here liked to tear the flesh off of bones and leave the remains as just gristle and bloodstains. It was horrifying but Richie was used to this sort of thing by now. The heavy door pushed inward so that would be easy enough to barricade from the inside and he knew there was a back door that locked from inside. Richie used to come here for snacks after school so he knew how the place was laid out. His plan was great, however, he knew the door had a bell hanging from it. Not too loud but loud enough to grab attention of anything nearby. He used to sneak in to scare his friends when he saw them from the windows out front so he knew he could get in. He just hoped the bell he was looking at was just as sturdy as the one back home.

Richie took a deep breath and moved as slow as possible. He held his breath and carefully pushed the door open. Inch by inch, his eyes never leaving the bell in front of him. He froze as the bell shifted slightly, making only the slightest sound against the glass. When he froze, he took a moment to stand completely still, glancing around slowly. He slowly moved his head around to check if something was close enough to hear. Once he was sure that nothing had heard him, he continued to sneak inside. Soon he was far enough inside to reach up and stop the bell from moving and making too much noise. He carefully shut the heavy door and held onto the bell as he did. Once the door was finally shut, he sighed quietly in relief. He carefully turned the lock until it clicked, which made him freeze and listen for any sign of movement. It was still quiet. The things seemed to thrive in the dark so as long as he stayed as quiet as he possibly could, he’d be okay to eat during the day. If he was fast, and quiet, he could open up enough food to last the night and through till morning. He looked at his options, soda and chips are completely out of the question because of the amount of noise they make when they’re consumed. Canned food is suicide and he’d rather not test out the monster hearing like that and if he cut himself on it, he would probably die from either tetanus or those things smelling his blood. He wouldn’t have put it past that clown to be able to smell his blood if he can smell fear.

Pastries would be the best option for now. Even if they’re stale. There’s a whole donut display case and it's not too loud at all. If he maneuvered his fingers just right, he could open it almost silently. Thankfully the store had all the essentials if he could open them quietly enough. To his left, there was a rack of tourist souvenirs thankfully. This world is cold and the floor is hard so he could make some sort of nest out of those shirts, jackets, and blankets. He figured that the first thing he should do right now is create cover on the windows so nothing outside can see inside and after that he will make sure to shut off the lights in the store so at night, he can see shadows outside with the streetlamp. If these shits have any type of sight abilities, he’ll have to make sure he is invisible. 

Richie rushed quietly to the stationary section and grabbed a shit ton of wax and rushed back to the front to grab some newspapers he saw on the rack. He knew it took about an hour of his daylight but the windows were covered enough for him to be able to crouch and move about the store without grabbing much suspicion, hoping they didn’t have much memory awareness with this town. If their minds are more animalistic, they’ll rely more on their sense of smell and hearing. Well, that night would be when he finds out if he will live or die. Next, he focused on bedding. He stacked jackets and shirts on the floor first, using the ugly fucking stuffed beavers that had “I love Derry” on their stupid little shirts as cushioning and insulation before placing a couple blankets down before saving some for sleeping. He didn’t dare touch the sleeping bags. They were horrible noise makers. Every move you make on or in those things makes a sound. The extra insulation was not worth drawing any more attention to himself. The clown knew he was here staying put anywhere was dangerous enough on his own so he wasn’t gonna risk it.

The sun would be setting soon so all he had to do was find the light switches and gather quiet foods. He snuck over to the tobacco counter where the back room was. He easily found the switches and turned out the lights as quietly as possible. Thankfully, they weren’t the ones that click loudly so it was easily uneventful. The refrigerators had lights so it wasn’t as dark as he’d like but at least it wasn’t too conspicuous. He then rushed to grab waters from the fridge because that was quieter than opening a new pack would be. He then grabbed some donuts from the display. If this were any other situation, donuts for dinner would be any kid’s dream come true but right now, he wouldn’t mind his mother’s disgusting liver and onions. That would mean he was home. He missed his friends and his parents even if they weren’t the kindest. They, at least, never let him go hungry, or get too cold, or wear the same clothes three days in a row.

He ate his dinner and grabbed a book that looked interesting off the rack. Sadly, they were all cheesy romance novels but at least it was something. He picked up the book called “Of Love and Shadows” by Isabel Allende which, by the summary, sounded like something that he would not enjoy at all but it would pass the time in the quietest way he knew how. 

Richie got into his nest and hoped that he wasn’t the type to snore in his sleep. When he stayed at Stan or Bill’s house, there were never any complaints so hopefully that was a good sign. He pulled out his book and read until he couldn’t anymore. The light from the street lamps weren’t enough to make out any of the words so he curled up under the blankets when he saw shadows moving through the paper barrier. Slow, looming forms moved in front of the windows. Richie slowly moved to look at the creatures through the small space between the papers he left to be able to see what’s going on. He knew that all color must have drained from his face as he covered his mouth to keep from gasping. The things were hideous. Not a single face on any of them, their bodies looked like it belonged on an alien. Maybe that’s what they were. Blood thirsty aliens from another dimension. What if these creatures travel through dimensions and devour every living thing? Hell, he hasn’t seen a single bug. There are corpse remains everywhere yet not a single bug. These things don’t have any eyes so if the smell of the town is strong enough, he won’t be sniffed out. It took ten, maybe twenty minutes, but soon, they left the town, as they came. Clicking and hissing as they opened their flower shaped mouths. Each of the petals had razor sharp teeth and their hands had talons like some sort of dinosaur. Once they were gone, he got back into bed and curled up under the top blankets and shut his eyes, doubting that sleep would take him but exhaustion prevailed and soon he drifted off.

Shapes and colors started to come into view as a shrieking voice made the colors become clarity. It was like he was watching through two huge windows. The voice was extremely muffled at first but soon, he could make it out. “- a doll?! Why do you have that?!” A woman’s voice said clearly, he could see her. She was pretty, as far as older women go. She was probably a mother. Suddenly he noticed the huge boy that seemed to be holding him. There were three people and they were enormous, he felt like he was in the story of Jack and the Beanstalk. The boy holding him pouted. “I fixed him and cleaned him up… I couldn’t just leave him there… I don’t know why. He was behind a bunch of creepy clown dolls… I just knew he was there and he felt so lonely…” Richie hadn’t heard other voices in so long that this made him want to risk everything to just be found. The young girl in the room reached for him so he called to her in hopes she’d somehow hear him. “Yes! I was extremely lonely!! I’m Richie!! Please don’t leave me here!!!” he called to her at the top of his lungs.

After a pause, she finally spoke. “Richie…”


End file.
